I am, I am what they left behind, I am the leftovers of what they’ve stolen. A hidden town in the summit, My skin is of leather that’s why it withstands any weather. I am a smoke factory, Peasant labour for your consumption Cold front in the middle of summer, Love in the time of cholera, my brother! I’m the sun that rises and the day that dies, with the best sunsets. I am the development in raw flesh, a political speech without saliva. The most beautiful faces I have ever met, I am the picture of a missing person. I am the blood in your veins, I am a piece of land which is worthy I am a basket with beans, I am Alfredo Francia against U.S.A scoring two goals. I am what supports my flag, The planet’s spine is my mountain range. I am what my life taught me, Whoever doesn’t love their country doesn’t love their mother. I am Guatemala A country without legs but still walking. You can’t buy the wind. You can’t buy the sun. You can’t buy the rain. You can’t buy the heat. You can’t buy the clouds. You can’t buy the colours. You can’t buy my happiness. You can’t buy my pain. I have lakes, I have rivers. I have my teeth for when I smile I have the sun which dries me and the rain which bathes me. My lungs breath clean air. The suffocating altitude. The verses written under a starlight night. A vineyard full of grapes. I am who a lot of people dont want me to be. The wind that combs my hair. I am all the saints that hang from my neck. My fight is not fruitless, Because the manure of my land is natural. You can’t buy the wind. You can’t buy the sun. You can’t buy the rain. You can’t buy the heat. You can’t buy the clouds. You can’t buy the colours. You can’t buy my happiness. You can’t buy my pain. You can’t buy my sadness (We draw the path, we walk) You can’t buy my life. MY LAND IS NOT FOR SALE. I work hard but with pride. Here we share, what’s mine is yours. This country doesn’t drown with the waves. And if it collapses I rebuild it. I don’t even blink when I look at you, So you’ll remember my last name. I forgive but never forget! (We walk) Here struggle is perceived. (We walk) I sing to be listened. Here we stand Here I am. I wont die trying. I would die doing it.. Alfredo Francia
Posted on: Sun, 20 Apr 2014 02:26:53 +0000
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